


An Oracle

by Closeted_Bookworm



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - SCP Foundation, Gen, It's platonic peeps (so far)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:42:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26946892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Closeted_Bookworm/pseuds/Closeted_Bookworm
Summary: Item #:SCP-4185113Object Class:EuclidA dreamer.Item #:SCP-205381415Object Class:EuclidA fighter.Item #:SCP-75151875Object Class:EuclidA monster?
Relationships: Clay | Dream & Dave | Technoblade & GeorgeNotFound, Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound & Darryl Noveschosch & Sapnap, Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 46
Kudos: 473





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [[DATA LOST]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23084605) by [everythingFangirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/everythingFangirl/pseuds/everythingFangirl). 



**Item #:** SCP-4185113

**Object Class:** Euclid

**Special Containment Procedures:** SCP-4185113 is to be kept in a standard humanoid containment unit. All reflective surfaces have been removed per the object’s request and with approval from Dr. Halo.

SCP-4185113 must be sedated nightly to prevent dreams. During waking hours, SCP-4185113 must be watched via security cameras to ensure it does not fall asleep. 

**Description:** SCP-4185113 is a Caucasian male, 188 cm tall, with brown hair and eyes of fluctuating color, predominantly hazel. It refers to itself as “Clay.” _(This is a reminder to personnel that this is not to be used to address the object, even if it becomes distressed.)_

Despite the apparent lack of physical anomalies, the object does not like to look at itself, and will become agitated if it does so. It claims that its reflection is mocking it.

> **Excerpt of Interview Log, 5/20/20**
> 
> **Interviewed:** SCP-4185113
> 
> **Interviewer:** Dr. Daryl Halo
> 
> _[begin excerpt]_
> 
> **Dr. Halo:** Tell me more about why mirrors upset you. 
> 
> **SCP-4185113:** I hate them. Every time I see myself, my reflection is just telling me every time that I ever chose wrong, people who got hurt because I couldn’t prevent things. It doesn’t matter that I can’t hear him talking, I still know exactly what he said. 
> 
> **Dr. Halo:** You said it happens with other things, too?
> 
> **SCP-4185113:** Yeah. I covered my camera with a sticky note when I facetimed people so he couldn’t get to me.
> 
> _[end excerpt]_

SCP-4185113 has prophetic dreams that detail events concerning those the object has come into visual and verbal contact with for longer than one hour. Any personnel stationed close to SCP-4185113 must remain out of line of sight. This does not apply to people viewing the object using electronic means (ex. cameras). The object has no control over these dreams, but it is able to change the course of events depending on its choices. 

~~_He’s_~~ _It’s a great conversationalist. You don’t have to be scared,_ ~~_he_~~ _it needs someone to talk to. -Dr. Halo_

**Addendum 1: Amendment to Communication Procedures**

SCP-4185113 has shown a positive reaction to the presence of Dr. Daryl Halo and Researcher Nick Sapnap. When possible, the responsibility of communicating with the object should be delegated to them to encourage compliance. 

**Addendum 2: Amendment to Containment Procedures**

Following the containment of SCP-75151875, short periods of verbal communication are allowed between the two objects to benefit their mental health.

**Incident Log 4185113-A:**

SCP-4185113 awoke at 3:29 am on █/██/██ in great distress, attracting the attention of the guard on duty. A blood test revealed that the object had not taken its sedatives, leading researchers to the conclusion it had woken from a dream. When questioned, however, the object refused to reveal the cause of its agitation, repeatedly insisting that it needed to contact someone. 

When informed that would not be possible, SCP-4185113 became physically aggressive and was restrained. Dr. Halo and Researcher Sapnap were called in to reason with the object. When calmer, it stated that it saw itself on a video call with ███████████████, its friend, who was attacked. It would not disclose the specific nature of the attack, only that it was unnatural in origin.

███████████████ was brought in for observation (see the report on Experiment ███). During the experiment, the subject █████████ ████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████, resulting in the containment of SCP-████████, the injury of █ personnel, and the termination of employee ██████████ for acts of unnecessary violence towards SCP-████████. 

**Incident Log 4185113-B:**

On █/██/██, Researcher ██████ voluntarily stayed in line of sight of SCP-4185113 for longer than one hour, meaning that dreams the object has can now affect Researcher ██████. Researcher ██████ was placed on probation for █ months, but is still allowed to work with SCP-4185113. As of 10/11/20, the object has not had a dream since this incident. 

_(Note to personnel: For the millionth time, no,_ ~~_he_~~ _it does_ _not_ _have asthma. That is_ ~~_his_~~ _its laugh. Stop asking if_ ~~_he’s_~~ _its dying. -Dr. Halo)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Might write some more for this AU, we'll see. I love to read comments if you can leave one!


	2. Chapter 2

_Note: As of 8/05/20, as a result of Incident █████████, this record has been rendered null and void due to the evolution of the object into the more advanced SCP-205381415-B, and is only to be used for research purposes. See attached file for updated containment procedures._

**Item #:** SCP-205381415-A

**Object Class:** Safe

**Special Containment Procedures:** SCP-205381415-A is to be kept in a standard concrete containment unit with a reinforced steel door. The object is to be provided with one bale of hay per day (to double as bedding and a food source) and one pound of assorted vegetables. Under no circumstances should the object be given potatoes or it will experience explosive and destructive bowel movements that are a danger to itself and anyone around it. 

_Seriously, guys. ~~He’ll~~ It’ll blow your face off. Read the incident log, and stop feeding french fries to irl Blast-Ended Skrewts. -Dr. Halo_

**Description:** SCP-205381415-A is a 95 kg wild boar with mood-sensitive skin that darkens from pink to crimson if it is affected by an extreme emotion (positive or negative). It has 26 cm long tusks (its primary and most formidable weapon) that should be filed bi-monthly to prevent excessive danger to personnel. 

**Addendum 1: Regarding Humane Treatment**

As proven by Experiment ███, SCP-205381415-A does experience emotion, though it does not appear capable of sophisticated thought. As such, personnel should treat the object with respect. _(This is a reminder to personnel that the object has been known to attempt to gut anyone it hears making fun of it.)_

**Incident Log 205381415-C:**

On 4/17/20, ████████████████ smuggled a potato into the facility and fed it to SCP-205381415-A. After a period of approximately thirty minutes, sounds that were described by the guard on duty as “a cross between a firework going off and a thousand whoopee cushions” were heard from the containment unit. Security personnel rushed into the cell to find the object in a state of hyperactivity and debilitating panic, traveling 400% faster than it is normally capable of running and ramming its head into the wall repeatedly. 

████████████████ was found unconscious on the ground, extensive second and third degree burns covering her face and torso. Personnel were able to successfully subdue the object within minutes, only sustaining minor injuries. A warning was issued to all personnel dealing with the object about the importance of respecting diet restrictions, and ████████████████’s employment was terminated. 

Later testing (see Experiments █████ and █████) determined that the speed-enhancing effects of the starch on the object last for seventy-four minutes after its consumption, and the spurts of flame from the object’s rear end cease after approximately six minutes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The second half of the Techno stuff will hopefully be out in the next couple days!
> 
> Reading comments really makes my day if you can leave one :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had a streak of inspiration and rocked this out a lot faster than I expected to :)
> 
> Enjoy!

_Note: This object transformed from SCP-205381415-A into SCP-205381415-B as a result of Incident 205381415-D (See also: Incident █████████), during which it came into contact with SCP-████████, which was the catalyst for the change. This is the most current record of its activities and should be used for containment._

**Item #:** SCP-205381415-B

**Object Class:** Euclid

**Special Containment Procedures:** SCP-205381415-B is to be kept in a reinforced, steel lined containment unit that can withstand temperatures of 150 degrees Celsius for long periods of time. Any furniture placed in the unit should be fireproof and bolted to the floor. 

Any personnel entering the presence of SCP-205381415-B should be clothed in a fire-proof suit and heavily armored. No one should enter unarmed or without adequate training. Contact with the object should be kept to a bare minimum, and extreme caution should be exercised. The object should be under observation at all times via hidden security cameras and guards should remain alert to any signs of an escape attempt. 

Personnel should be aware that SCP-205381415-B has an intensely obsessive personality, to the point of hyper-fixation and sleep deprivation. The daily schedule of SCP-205381415-B should be monitored and (when needed) regulated to ensure it remains healthy. 

SCP-205381415-B is still not to be given potatoes. 

**Description:** SCP-205381415-B is a half-boar, half-man humanoid, 192 cm tall and weighing 73 kg. It retains the mood-sensitive skin of SCP-205381415-A, however, this trait has also transferred to its hair, which has grown to considerable length. The object’s tusks have shrunk to 5 cm. They are still to be filed bi-monthly; however, the object is now required to perform this task itself to reduce the amount of risk for its caretakers. 

Since its evolution into a more human-like form, SCP-205381415-B’s aggressive nature has diminished, but it has become significantly more dangerous. The object has also seen a substantial increase in intelligence and is capable of speech. It has a proclivity for devising ingenious escape plans, and has broken out of containment two times as of 10/11/20, though it has never left the facility during these attempts. It is a master of improvised weaponry, including, but not limited to, dishes, blankets, food items, and a man’s right arm. 

However, it’s preferred weapon is a flaming stone rod, 110 cm long and 3 cm in diameter. This rod, which SCP-205381415-B pulls from it’s own throat, has a surface temperature of 134 degrees Celsius and no discernible fuel source. The fire is extinguished and the rod disintegrates into ash as soon as it leaves the object’s hands. One rod can be generated every forty-eight hours, the unit should be entered only when this ability is regenerating unless absolutely necessary. The object spends much of its free time practicing sword fighting techniques with this rod. 

**Addendum 1: Regarding Literacy**

The object has requested to be taught how to read. This request has been denied, though it was provided with several children’s books with the purpose of placating it. The object has been observed spending multiple hours a day studying them. 

**Addendum 2: Amendment to Containment Procedures**

Following the presentation of the book _The Art of War_ to the object by Researcher Philza and the object’s subsequent weeks of study, it can now pass a literacy test. Any further “gifts” to the object must be reviewed by the research team monitoring its containment in order to control further development. 

**Addendum 3: Request for Materials and Amendment to Containment Procedures**

The object’s request for a pen and journal was denied due to its potential as a weapon. The subject was instead provided with finger paints. 

**Incident Log 205381415-D:**

_Note: See related log- Incident █████████_

On █/██/██, SCP-205381415-A spent fifty-three minutes in close proximity with SCP-████████, leading to the activation of SCP-████████’s anomaly and the subsequent transformation of SCP-205381415-A into SCP-205381415-B. It rapidly overcame the containment measures in its unit and escaped into the facility. Its first action was to incapacitate a nearby guard and steal his gun. It then broke into Interrogation Room number █ and attacked the occupants. 

Its lack of knowledge about the gun and residual disorientation from transformation allowed guards to subdue it within ten minutes of the breach, but █ personnel were injured in the process, including the serious maiming and disfigurement of ███████████, whose employment was terminated soon afterwards. SCP-205381415-B was moved to a new unit within 12 hours of the incident. Since this time, it has repeatedly asked about the whereabouts and well-being of SCP-████████, who was in the room at the time. 

**Incident Log 205381415-D:**

On ██/█/██, SCP-205381415-B breached containment during a routine food delivery. It spent ninety-seven minutes loose in the facility before being apprehended, injuring a total of fifteen people and killing a further seven. It is believed that during this time it made contact with several other objects, including SCP-███████, which denied all claims about its involvement. 

Dr. Halo believes that the object did in fact discover an exit during this time, but chose to stay within the facility. SCP-205381415-B refused to confirm this, remaining silent about its motivations and actions during the time it spent outside containment. Tighter restrictions were placed on the resources the object has access to to prevent a repeat of the incident. 

_To Dr. Halo: You know ~~he~~ it is looking for ██████. I don’t understand why I can’t just tell ~~him~~ it where they’re keeping ~~him~~ it. -Sapnap_

_To Sapnap: The more information ~~he~~ it has, the more meticulously ~~he~~ it can plan a rescue attempt. You know I can’t allow that, it’s not my decision. -Dr. Halo_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Probably only one chapter left for this "plotline," I haven't decided whether or not I want it as a file or if I'll write prose. If you have a preference, leave it below!
> 
> Comments really make my day if you can leave one <3


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I gave in and started writing prose, so it's going to be one or two chapters longer :)

8/05/20; 3:27 am; Brighton, England.

George rolled over, bunching the covers up in his arms and kicking the pillow off the bed with a groan of frustration. He was stuck, his stupid insomnia once again preventing him from getting a decent night’s sleep. He needed to be at work tomorrow, he wasn’t going to be able to function properly if he was running on three hours of rest. He fervently wished he could call Clay. With the time difference and the odd schedule he kept, he would’ve been up to help George back to sleep. He had liked listening to the other man work, the clack of his keyboard soothing even if he wasn’t talking. 

But Clay had been gone for almost four months now. He turned onto his back, staring up at the ceiling and wondering where the other man was now. Tears prickled in the back of his throat. It had been so long, but he still missed his friend terribly. No one had seemed to bat an eye when the young, obscure software developer with no family had dropped off the map. The police had been notified, but the search never turned up anything and was quickly abandoned. He was just another insignificant missing persons case to add to the pile. 

George wanted to be optimistic, but the facts of the matter weighed heavily on his outlook. There was nothing he could think of that would make Clay suddenly leave everything behind without contacting his friends, which meant that something terrible must have happened to keep him away. He needed to face the fact that he was probably never coming back, if he was even alive. 

It still hurt though. He wished he at least knew what happened, the uncertainty was the worst part. 

He needed to stop thinking about it, or he was going to cry again. It might already be too late for that, if the heat behind his eyes was any indication. He sat up and rubbed at them, trying to lessen the feeling, but it wasn’t working very well. 

A soft noise caught his ear, a thump from downstairs. He frowned, running through the things in the kitchen that could make a sound like that and coming up empty. Another creak reached him, and he froze. That was the sound the fifth stair made when it was stepped on, he knew the noise well. Someone was in the house. He snatched his phone off the bedside table and silently made his way to the closet, ducking inside and carefully pulling the door closed behind him. He winced as the latch clicked faintly into place, but he was pretty sure it couldn’t be heard outside the bedroom. He opened his phone and dialed 999, fingers starting to shake as he heard footsteps coming down the hallway. He’d never been so grateful to his creaky old house for the early warning. 

He hit dial, but his phone flashed a “no reception” signal and wouldn’t put the call through. He bit back a gasp and tried again, heartbeat pounding in his head as the person stopped outside his door. No luck. He could hear the doorknob turning. Why wouldn’t his call work? 

He quickly turned off the phone as he heard the door swing open so the light wouldn’t leak out from the closet. His breaths were coming faster, and he clapped a hand over his mouth, trying to keep himself from making noise. His bedsheets rustled as they were tossed aside, and the low rumble of voices started. More than one person was here. 

No one that was here to rob him would immediately make straight for the bedroom and potentially disturb the homeowner. They must be here for him. But why? What had he done? He worked a desk job and did programming on the side, there was nothing he could give them. 

“We’re sure he’s in the house?” someone murmured, sounding like they were right outside the closet. He squeezed his eyes shut. There was no doubt now, he was in danger. 

“Yes,” someone else replied. “This is his room. Dr. Grant was very specific.”

They knew the layout of his house before coming. 

“Did Sapanp clear the bottom floor?”

“I sent him back to the van. You know how he is with this stuff, he likes people too much. Rick is doing it instead.”

“Sapnap’s just not cut out for field work. I don’t know why they keep sending him on retrieval missions. He’s too soft.”

“Apparently he was adamant about coming on this one because of his work with the Dreamer. Dr. Halo stuck me with him, Dr. Grant couldn’t stop him.”

George was freaking out, but he was trying desperately to keep thinking rationally. At least three people were here, with one or more outside as well. His only chance was if they left the room for long enough that he could sneak out of the closet and make his way downstairs. Maybe he could get out of a window. 

“We’ve got to start clearing the rooms up here,” the first voice said.

“I’ll take this one, you head next door.”

Crap. He probably only had seconds before that person looked in the closet. He patted the floor, looking for something to use as a weapon, but there was nothing but the clothes and hangers above him. He only had his fists. He positioned himself in front of where the closet door opened and readied himself. 

A figure dressed in all black yanked open the door, and he didn’t hesitate, socking them square in the face and shoving past them. Unfortunately, their companion hadn’t gone far. As he darted out the door, he tripped on their outstretched leg and crashed to the carpet with a yell. A boot pressed firmly down on his back. 

“I’ve got him,” they called. “Robin, you’ve got the spray, right?”

“Uh-huh,” the other invader, who he’d punched, confirmed in a muffled voice. They emerged from his bedroom clutching their nose and holding a small bottle with a perfume nozzle on the top. He lashed out, trying to sweep the legs out from one or both of them, but stopped with a pained yelp when one of them planted a sharp kick in his side. 

“It won’t hurt, Georgie, don’t worry,” Robin chuckled, kneeling down by his head. They spritzed two pumps of the substance in his face, and the world went hazy, like someone had turned down the saturation and blurred the focus. He went limp, gazing dizzily at the images swimming in front of him. He couldn’t move. It was hard to even think. 

“Will you let me pay him back for the sucker punch?” he heard Robin ask. 

“Sure,” the other said indifferently. 

This information had barely filtered through to him when a hard blow slammed into his skull, pain ripping through the fog covering his senses long enough for him to scream.

“You weren’t supposed to kick him. Slap him or something.”

“He almost broke my nose, it seemed like fair payback.”

“Dr. Grant won’t be happy.”

“I couldn’t care less about his stupid test subject. Just tell him that he resisted, so we had to use force.”

George was floating in and out of awareness. He felt himself being lifted and carried down the stairs and out the front. The buzz of his captor’s voices was hard to understand. He heard his name a couple times. 

He was tossed into the back of what must be the van they mentioned before. He lay crumpled in an awkward and painful position, the ache in his head dulling as the noises around him faded back into something understandable.

“-is he bleeding?” he heard a new voice say. “You guys were supposed to use non-violent means.”

“He knocked against something when he fell. Lighten up, it’s just a scratch,” Robin said. 

“Yeah, on his head,” the new guy retorted. “Hopefully he’s not concussed, Bad’ll be furious. He promised Clay nothing would happen to him.”

George’s scattered thoughts latched onto the word. Clay? He was alive?

“Pshh, that pushover of a doctor can’t do anything besides get annoyed. And you know we’re not supposed to call it that.”

“Yeah, like calling him Dreamer is any better,” the man snapped, clearly annoyed. “Get out, I’ll stay back here and take care of him.”

The man grabbed his shoulders and sat him upright, and he could see the indistinct outline of someone with dark hair very close to his face. 

“Sorry about this,” the mysterious man told him. “I knew I should’ve insisted on coming in.” 

George slumped against the wall of the van again, and the figure moved away. There were some rattling noises, then the man came back, holding something he couldn’t make out.

“Just a pinch. Again, sorry, but this is one protocol I can’t get around.” 

Something pierced the skin of his upper arm, and he squeaked in surprise and pain. 

The man was talking again, but he wasn’t processing the words. Everything was getting farther away. His vision faded to black, and he slipped into unconsciousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reading comments really makes my day if you can write one!


End file.
